


won't let you go

by thirteenohtwo



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, I kinda wanna see how those flying assholes would affect everyone, caleb got scared, fjord was tempted, or maybe im a sucker for kisses breaking charms, what was going on in yasha's head?, what would go on in everyone else's?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2019-07-05
Packaged: 2020-06-09 18:53:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19481920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteenohtwo/pseuds/thirteenohtwo
Summary: The only thing harder than telling the girl you like how you feel is doing it while she's possessed and trying to kill you. Jester's having a bad day.





	won't let you go

It’s going horribly, just horribly. She reasons that it could be worse - _maybe_ , and that they’re all still alive - _barely_ , and that technically they’re winning - _kinda_. Trapping the beast in here with them… it was clever and badass and felt so, so good when she was doing it, but upon further reflection (as she skids around the rocky corner, dodging arcs of lightning) it was maybe too rash of a decision.

Oh, plus those sexy assholes keep stealing her friends.

She watches Fjord’s face lose its tension, smoothing out into a blank mask. (so many masks, he has. this is her least favourite.) Void of the compassion she oh so adores from him. His eyes sweep across the room and meet hers, empty and chilling, and she watches him lift his hands. Dark energy crackles between his fingers, eldritch magic pooling in his palms - scary magic, she’s never realized how objectively scary Fjord’s magic is compared to theirs. He steps through the water he’s just used to try and sweep Possessed Caleb off his feet with, towards Jester who’s still desperately trying to catch her breath and look around the cavern for help. She’s pretty sure she can hear Yasha and Beau battling something on the other side of this massive fucking rock pillar and wishes she’d ran the _other_ way.

But then Fjord’s eyes roll back and he collapses to the rocky floor again (what a brave tissue paper man). She knows that when he gets up he’ll be himself, and decides the best place for him currently is right there. Hopefully not drowning in the puddle.

What a shitty day. A really, truly shitty day.

“Hey, Be-au…” she breathlessly trails off after the blue blur zips by her and- “Shit!”

The cavern wall behind her rumbles and trembles as the beast chases Beau. Jester’s jaw drops open when Yasha follows them both, and she leans as far as she can to try and get a better look at the barbarian’s grim face. She sends a sacred flame towards that end of the cavern for good measure, trailing behind as she holds her aching ribs.

Why did they come down this well? Wells suck hardcore ass. Nothing good ever happens in a well.

“Fjord!” Jester cries as he twists behind a gathering of rocks, blocking the lashings of electricity sent his way. At least he’s up again.

Caleb grunts and flops back against the ground, unconscious. He’s having maybe the worst day and considering he threw a fireball at them, that’s saying something.

Another flash of blue catches her eye and Jester looks up to see Beau squaring off against Yasha. Her fists do… almost nothing against their Stone Barbarian but thankfully as strong as Yasha is, Beau is just as hard to hit. Still… Jester worries her bottom lip between her teeth, lifting a hand and gathering her spell. She doesn’t _want_ to hurt Yasha, but - she can’t let Yasha hurt Beau.

A pale hand catches a brown fist and Jester sucks in a sharp breath. She squints her eyes to see Yasha’s lips moving and Beau’s shoulders sagging, and lets her spell fizzle out. Things are looking up if Yasha, Caleb, and Fjord are back.

Jester flashes a bright smile at Yasha as they pass each other, the angel digging her blade into the beast’s side while Jester goes to check on Beau. She hasn’t seen her maybe this whole fight and - where’s Caduceus?

“Beau, have you seen-…”

The winged woman laughs, a deep and throaty chuckle that’s smooth like velvet and makes Jester shiver. Before Jester can lift her hand, the woman is gone - off around the ceiling of the cavern again. Jester looks back to Beau, watches the tension enter her shoulders. Watches the grip on her bo tighten and the sharp muscle of her arms tense.

Jester swallows and reaches for the back of that blue vest. “Beau, do you feel okay?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Well that’s… that might be normal. “Do you maybe want-”

“How long have you been sending to him?” she asks quietly. Firmly.

Again, Jester shivers. She’s seen Beau pissed before - they all have, but Beau’s anger is always there. Bright embers ready to explode into flame, loud and passionate.

This is… controlled fury. Not a reaction, not a fleeting emotion of the moment, this is a seed someone has pulled up from the earth.

Jester doesn’t like it. “To who? What do you mean?”

“My father,” Beau accuses and turns to face her. She expects the snarl, a flash of teeth bared in a scowl so impressive that maybe, _maybe_ Jester practices it herself sometimes. She expects shouting and curses, a Beau Trademark. But only blue fire stares back at her, with a tone sharper than Fjord’s blade. “You expect me to believe it was a coincidence you and Fjord found me so soon after leaving the Cobalt Soul. Or that he would so easily give up and just leave me alone?”

“Beau, this isn’t you. She’s in your head, these thoughts aren’t yours!”

The monk tilts her head to the side, cracking her neck and - all the tension is released, her limbs loose and stance more fluid. Jester’s seen her spar, seen her fight often enough to know that she isn’t backing down. This is her gearing up for an attack. “Yes,” she says simply and takes a breath. “They are.”

**.**

**.**

**.**

Jester cradles the back of her head the moment it bounces off the rocky wall. Her blue hands are slick with red blood and she blinks against the stars in her eyes, focuses enough to watch Beau twirl and catch both of Nott’s bolts. The goblin shrieks as one is thrown back at her with the same velocity, slicing across her shoulder. “Beau!” Jester shouts with tears in her eyes. “Stop this!”

“I won’t go back to them!” Beau declares and - and her bo cuts down through the air and into Jester’s side, stealing away her breath. In the same motion, she ducks under Fjord’s eldritch blast he manages to get off before the beast gets in his way.

Jester grabs the staff just as Beau yanks it back and finally, _finally_ the monk stumbles. Pulls harder but Jester is _strong_ , she’s not fast or flashy or so fucking wiggly like smoke, but she has a grip and she’s not letting go. Her frantic purple eyes flick between Beau’s, searching for any hint of her friend still in there, fighting against this hold on her. “Beau, please. We’re not trying to send you back to him. I would never do that!”

“I won’t go back in their box!” she finally snarls and that fury blossoms into something bigger, something hotter. The control slips, Beau’s eyes widen and she takes a ragged breath.

Hit them hard enough and they come back.

Is emotional pain the same as physical?

Gritting her teeth, Jester yanks harder on the staff until Beau is stumbling against her. She hooks the bo around Beau’s back, clamping her hand down on the other end, and can’t tell if she’s pinning the monk or if she’s not pinned between Beau and the wall. “Then don’t, Beau. Don’t ever go back in the box, be you! Be angry and happy and loud and brash and kind and generous! Be all of the things that you are!”

“Let me go!” she growls and wriggles against Jester’s front, fingers digging into the stone of the wall as the staff refuses to budge. She brings her elbow down on Jester’s shoulder, where it connects to her neck, and they almost topple to the ground.

Instead, shards of ice creep up her blue neck, and dig into Beau’s ribs from her own - just slightly. “Shit, Beau!” Jester snaps with a frown. “That hurt!”

Beau braces her hands against the wall, ignores the blood slowly beginning to drip from her palms, and grunts as she tries to break free from the hold. “Let go,” she grinds out between her clenched teeth. Glares into the brightest, sparkliest amethysts she’s ever seen.

Jester’s grip tightens and she sucks in a breath, her nose bumping against Beau’s. They’re… they’re actually pretty close, now that she thinks about it. She can see the sweat gathering across Beau’s brow, notices the way her dark hair is beginning to curl because of it. A purple circle is beginning to form around Beau’s left eye from her tussle with Yasha, and her lip is split enough to make her snarl bloody. Jester can’t stop the way her face softens, how her gaze lingers, and smiles when Beau’s brows slowly furrow in furious confusion. “Have I ever mentioned that you’re really, really pretty?”

Beau’s elbows slam against the wall on either side of Jester’s head, her fumble costing her… ground, so to speak. “What?!”

“Do you think _I’m_ pretty?” Jester wonders or teases or maybe both. She has an idea but she also can’t deny the opportunity that’s presented itself. Fate is kinda funny, she supposes.

More of the tightness in Beau’s jaw loosens. “You…” she lightly shakes her head and Jester hides her sigh of relief when the resistance against the bo lessens. “Yes?”

“Beau-”

The monk winces, rearing her head back and tilting it towards the winged _bitch_ up in the corner. Beau’s eyelashes flutter and she shudders, victim to a siren’s call that Jester can’t hear. “You… have been watching me for him…” she gasps and blinks, glaring back at Jester.

Fucking cheater.

Jester let’s the bo go with one hand to flip off the succubus before cupping Beau’s cheek. It’s cold and clammy and Beau grimaces but doesn’t pull away. “Not for him. Just for me. Just because, Beau. Please don’t listen to her, please break her hold. I don’t want to hurt you… I _can’t_ hurt you.”

Blood smears the back of Jester’s hand, Beau snapping her grip like a coil around the blue wrist. “But I can hurt you,” she warns in a voice too calm, too eerie. Her eyes are hard with edges sharp enough to cut and the hope in Jester’s chest cracks like glass. “Jester.”

Tears well up in her eyes, Jester sucks in a sharp breath. The ache that shoots up and down her arm immediately drops out to the point of numbness. The only thing she can feel is her pulse where Beau digs her fingers in, and tries to make a fist, do anything with the arm she can’t move anymore. “Gods, Beau! This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, it’s not like my books at all. I’m not spying on you and if I was, I’d be so much better at it. I don’t give a shit about your dad, he’s a big dick, I would never send you back to him. I just. The only secret I have is.” She shakes her head with aggravated frustration. “Damn it, Beau, I want you to admit that you’re secretly in love with me because _I’m_ secretly in love with _you_ , but you trying to kill me is super getting in my way!”

Those blues remain colder than the ice that creeps up Jester’s spine, ready to be released in another Hellish Rebuke. Her fingertips begin to tingle again but she watches Beau’s face, looks for a sign, a flutter, something to tell her what to do.

“You _are_ a really good liar,” Beau tells her flatly. Jester’s heart falls. “You’ve been watching me since the Gentleman’s bar. I won’t let you hurt me again.”

“Beau,” Jester whines sadly and feels her shoulders droop. “I haven’t, I promise.”

“You will.”

“I won’t.”

“Jester.”

The way Beau says her name, a sharp intake of breath around a wince. A grimace. The glare on her face is fierce but something doesn’t click into place, enough that Jester notices, at least. Her head tilts to the side. She waits and watches, Beau is perfectly still and ready to strike like a cobra - something Jester has always admired up until now.

…but her hand around Jester’s wrist trembles, very slightly. It isn’t until Jester holds her breath that she even feels it. The muscles are too taut, there’s… restraint there? Enough that Jester can feel her fingers again, even if her arm is numb enough to be on another plane.

“Oh. Oh!” she gasps again and perks up. “You want me to hurt you! Right? I think so. Oh, Beau, you’re still in there!”

“Don’t fucking-”

A couple of things happen simultaneously and Jester wonders if maybe Caleb managed to get off a haste spell on her to keep up with it all.

The first is that Jester forces her tingling fingers around the back of Beau’s neck to dig them in there, while Beau tangles her own bloody hand in Jester’s hair to hold her back. The succubus let’s out an ungodly shriek, her eyes ablaze on Beau’s back - until Nott’s bolt catches her between the ribs. With a grunt, Beau stumbles against Jester’s front, dragged down and in towards her lips where necrotic magic pools to the surface.

Beau’s lips are chapped but oh so gentle against Jester’s own. Maybe it isn’t fireworks and passionate declarations of love. Maybe it’s black veins spreading from the monk’s lips, down her neck as her entire body seizes in a lurch. Maybe it’s possession and big bull demons and the taste of blood against Jester’s tongue, and maybe everybody almost died or is going to die.

But it’s kind of perfect. Not at all like the porno books, not what she thought it’s supposed to be, but…

When the hand trying to yank her back by her hair instead cradles the back of her head, when Beau’s painful grunt turns into a delighted hum, when Jester can feel her blush melting the ice in her veins… by the Traveller, it’s everything she’s ever wanted.

“I’m gonna, mmmf- Jessie, I gotta… there’s still a bad guy,” Beau mumbles against her lips even as she leans into the tiefling. A calloused thumb traces Jester’s jaw and she lets Beau go just enough to look into those shiny blue eyes. “I’m gonna rip that cow’s heart out.”

And damn, if she doesn’t just swoon. “Be careful, Beau!” Jester calls after her fondly, her hands clasped beneath her chin. She watches the monk flip over Fjord’s shoulder, blocking a hit that would have clocked him in the side of the head, and spins in place. “Oh my Gods, Traveller, did you see that?”

“Jester!” Nott screeches as she fires off another bolt. “We’re dying, pay attention.”

“Did you see that, Nott?”

“It was lovely, please kill something!”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Jester grumbles and searches the ceiling for the dickhole who almost ruined everything tonight


End file.
